i've got a closet full of skeletons
by harley.doll
Summary: but baby, they'll come out and dance for you. The 48 hours after Carly's wedding and how they changed everything.
1. bruno mars had it right

[_AN: Because I love their friendship and I wholly believe that Carly's not the priss everyone thinks she is. I own nothing. I hope you like it!_]

Carly almost didn't have anyone to stand with her at her wedding. She ended up calling Sam at the last minute because it didn't make sense not to. The two hour drive took Sam a little over an hour but when she got there she wasn't frantic and didn't try to talk Carly out of it. Instead, she brushed her hair and told her she looked pretty and teased her fiancé of four and a half hours.

"Why Carls?" she asked with genuine curiosity 20 minutes before their names were called.

Carly didn't answer immediately. Because he was still there. Because he was a solid presence, because he fights with her and for her. Because Spencer and Freddie didn't trust him and because she was sick of being predictable and wanted to do something crazy. Because he drove Sam to the hospital on the night no one would talk about. Because when Carly ran into the room Sam's snot and tears were drying on his collar even though there were tissues beside the door; because he held Freddie when he'd come in broken too. Because he'd never asked her for anything he didn't believe she couldn't do and because he believed she could do everything.

"Because it's a beautiful night for a wedding," she said. Sam read between the lines and squeezed her hand.

"It is isn't it?"

[&&&]

Sam left their apartment while Carly was still on the phone and Freddie was trying to ask her what was wrong. He'd followed her from the bedroom to the door and only stopped talking when she turned to kiss him goodbye. When she saw Carly waiting in the parking lot, she sent him a text (_don't wait up_) and turned off the phone. Carly smiled and hugged her like she hadn't seen her in months.

"I can't believe you're wearing white," she teased and Carly's laughter reassured her. The soon-to-be Mr. Carly Shay hovered quietly in the background as Sam dolled Carly up, only speaking when asked a direct question and looking for all the world like he was waiting for Carly to come to her senses and run. Sam caught his gaze in the mirror more than once and grinned each time. He had nothing to worry about. He came up to kiss Carly just before Sam handed her the lipstick and then he stood and placed his hand on the crown of Sam's head. He looked like he was going to thank her and Sam prepared to say that she wouldn't have missed it but he surprised her. He always surprised her.

"You should try again," was what he said instead. And Sam was reminded of why she liked him so much. He didn't avoid taboo topics or mince words. The next day he'd boxed up everything she and Carly had bought and shoved it into her closet, behind the boots she'd stolen from Carly years ago. Sam had stayed silent as he'd kissed her head where his hand laid now and left. If she nudged the toe of the left boot she could see the box. Sometimes it made her sad, other times scared but mostly, it made her thoughtful. And sometimes a little hopeful too.

She tugged his collar until his face was at the level of hers and kissed his cheek. "For luck," she said, sealing it with a gentle slap. She didn't clarify who the luck was for, but figured they'd work it out.

[&&&]

They walked to his favorite Chinese restaurant to celebrate and they laughed when he jumped up to run to the bakery across the street before it closed. Carly watched as he jaywalked and pulled his jacket more securely around her shoulders. She wanted to ask Sam what would happen if she woke up the next morning and regretted it all. She stabbed a piece of Sam's pork for herself and chewed it thoughtfully instead.

"I like Freddie," she finally declared.

Sam looked up. "Okay?"

"Freddie and Spencer won't be happy," Carly said. "But you like him. You always have."

Sam shrugged. "He's still taller than you when you wear heels," she offered as a reason.

"I love Freddie, but I wasn't sure," Carly confessed. "I wanted to be but…" She trailed off and looked at their reflections in the window. "I loved him, but I wasn't sure he loved _you_ enough. I wanted you to be okay." She finished lamely. She looked at Sam who had abandoned eating for playing idly with her fork. She slid out of her side of the booth and slid in next to Sam. "He's had chances to run. They both have. But they didn't."

"He still might." Behind them the door swung open and the breeze pushed Sam's hair into her face. Carly tucked it back behind her ear and kissed her cheek.

"Not everyone is Jaspar," she reminded her. She smiled as he slid in across from them and opened the box to reveal three cupcakes and half a dozen éclairs.

"The cupcakes were free. As a congratulations." His grin threatened to split his face and Carly found herself unable to resist returning it. "How did you know?" she asked Sam as she selected a cupcake.

Because she'd ignored him at first. Because he was patient, but also unwilling to burn his ass on Carly's back burner. Because he never made Carly sacrifice a part of herself to be with him. Because he smiled every time he touched her and because he'd been the eye of every Carly-storm since they met. Because when he smiled at her like that, Carly radiated joy and contentment and love from every pore.

Sam reached out and plucked an éclair from the box. "Call it intuition," she said. She pulled her pinkie through the icing on top and tasted it before looking up and winking at Sam.

"And because maybe now I can finally convince you to name your first kid Sam Jr."


	2. she marries men like her brother

Spencer woke up suddenly like he used to, back when Carly was afraid of the monster in her closet and would sit and cry until he came in to get her. But there was no monster tonight, just the glow of the infomercial he'd fallen asleep watching and an urgent need to talk to Carly.

Spencer didn't worry when Carly didn't answer her phone on the first try. She was a big girl and sometimes big brother's calls went unanswered. Especially on nights that she decided to cross state lines with boy-Sam who Spencer wasn't too fond of, but had become a fixture. He did worry, however, when Freddie's phone went to voicemail. Freddie was the anchor that kept the girls from going astray. If the anchor wasn't anchored then where the hell were the ships? His mind went immediately to blaming boy-Sam because two years ago Carly wouldn't have been MIA in the middle of the night; she'd be at her apartment with Sam and would text him to say that she's ignored his call in favor of whatever movie they were watching. Now she was God knows where with the kid who had gotten into a fight with Freddie around Thanksgiving for reasons neither man-child would disclose. Carly had cried and girl-Sam had pretended she was proud of Freddie but just before the first punch had been thrown he'd seen the utter devastation in her eyes. And Spencer hated that boy-Sam had brought out in Freddie what girl-Sam never wanted to see in another man she loved, and he hated that Carly forgave boy-Sam and he hated most of all how much of his younger, stupid self he saw in boy-Sam.

He took a few calming breaths before redialing Freddie's number. Straight to voicemail _again_ and Spencer gave up on him and dialed Sam because that was the order of things and if he had to resort to calling Sam, he wasn't really sure he even wanted to know what was going on. She didn't answer either which was more irritating than stressful. Then again Sam rarely answered her phone (she was like Spencer in that way) so Spencer sighed, tossed the phone onto the couch beside him and decided to wait. It wasn't like there was a real emergency, he just had that strange feeling, that sense that Carly needed him _right now_. He sighed again and got up. If he was going to wait he might as well do it over leftovers.

[&&&]

Spencer's life was full of questionable decisions. Leaving law school for sculpting, agreeing to raise for Carly when he could barely take care of himself and his string of days-long romances were testaments to that. Through all that however, Carly had only looked at him through the adoring eyes of a baby sister. She teased him and parented him more often than she should have (because Carly needed someone to parent and despite her best efforts, Sam wasn't around 24/7 so sometimes Spencer had to pick up the slack) but none of that ever changed the way she loved him, or dissuaded her of the idea that Spencer would hang the stars in the sky if she asked him to. Spencer loved that _someone_ had so much utter faith in him, so he never told her why he hadn't come home for a year after dropping out of school. He never told her about Josie who was his Constitutional Law tutor and had giggled when he called her "pussycat". He never mentioned that one Saturday Josie called him and asked him to come pick her up and that when he'd pulled up in is eons-old Camry Josie was wearing a wedding dress, or that he and Josie had gone on the honeymoon she had planned six months prior. Carly had no idea that he and Josie had settled down for months in a shitty apartment without heat just off campus or that Josie was the one woman Spencer could have married; she especially didn't know that Josie deserved better than a life of squalor with a struggling sculptor and so Spencer had written her a letter detailing this and handed it to her in Section Q of the law library before kissing her forehead and heading back to Seattle, selling the Camry that reeked of ancient books, paint and the toothpicks Josie nibbled when she was deep in thought.

Carly never knew that boy-Sam's face looked exactly like Spencer's had everyday he was with Josie. Incredulous and too happy, Spencer had recognized it all on day one and he knew without a doubt that boy-Sam would second guess himself and leave Carly crying and broken-hearted. He hoped for Carly's sake he was wrong but in cases like these, big brothers usually weren't.

[&&&]

He was relieved when Carly finally texted him until he opened it to see that _i love you_ was all she'd sent. For the first time he was truly afraid of what she had done and when she walked through the door at 4:30 with boy-Sam in tow all Spencer could do was hug her and send up a silent prayer of thanks to whoever was listening that she'd come home.

"We're married Spencer," was all she said and he held her tighter to his chest. He spared Sam a look and saw someone who still underestimated himself and still might break Carly's heart but he surprised himself on this night of firsts. Instead of walking away like he had when they'd announced they were together or ignoring him like he had all the other times he nodded at him and kissed Carly's head. He couldn't trust boy-Sam, but he could trust Carly.

"I love you too cupcake," he whispered into her hair. "Congratulations."


	3. examining definitions of commitment

[AN: _This chapter could have also been called "How Max diligently avoids his kicking and screaming and starts worming her way into Bruce's heart," but it didn't exactly fit._]

At 3:43 am Terry unlocks her window and steps into her room. Her greeting dies in her throat when he snatches off his mask as throws it viciously onto her bed before storming silently into the bathroom. Max sighs and gets up to relock the window and close the curtains. She's had enough experience with this mood to know that he'll open up once he's calm and not a moment before.

It takes a 30 minute shower and leftover spaghetti but finally Terry looks at her sadly (and when he does this he so resembles Matt that it takes all of Max's willpower not to ruffle his hair).

"Wayne won't take his heart meds."

"How do you know?"

"A couple nights ago I was in the suit and I picked up his heartbeat. It was jumping all over the place. When I asked him if he'd taken his pills he told me to mind my damn business and sent me out on patrol."

Max slides closer to Terry and rubs his shoulders. "He's stubborn, but he's not senile. Maybe he really didn't need them."

"The thought crossed my mind, but the next day I did a little snooping. I picked up both of his prescriptions over a month ago and every single slagging pill is right where I left it. At first I thought he'd forgotten after not taking them for a night or two so I kindly reminded him. He told me that he didn't need them and so he wasn't going to take them." Terry leans forward, resting his head in his hands. "He can't- I don't want him to die too Maxie. What am I going to do?" Terry's voice has steadily dropped until he's only whispering. He looks up at Max and she can see the pain in his face just as clearly as she can see the dark circles that are becoming more and more prominent.

"You're going to go to sleep," she replies. She takes his hands and pulls him to his feet and leads him to the bed. "And tomorrow I'll go talk to Wayne."

Terry shakes his head as Max pulls back the blankets. "Not offense Max but he doesn't like you all that much. Why would he listen to you?"

"Because I excel at pointing out what others overlook," is her simple reply. Terry looks utterly confused but Max just shakes her head with a soft smile. "Just go to sleep Ter."

::

It takes Max two trains and a cab ride to get there, but she finally arrives at Wayne Manor. She waits at the gate for Bruce to respond to her page.

"What?" he says gruffly.

"It's me Mr. Wayne. I have some stuff to talk to you about."

"What's wrong with the phone?"

"I wanted to see your smiling face," Max says dryly. When Bruce doesn't respond she presses the button again. "Look the sooner you let me in, the sooner I'm out of your hair. Let's make this as painless as possible."

Bruce grumbles something rude, but Max can't make it out over the creaking of the opening gates. Bruce doesn't wait for her to knock once she reaches the front door; instead he swings it open and regards her angrily.

"This had better be good." He turns and leads the way into the library and takes a seat behind his desk.

"Terry tells me you haven't been taking your meds," Max says, diving right in.

Bruce responds about as well as can be expected. "And how is that any of your business?"

"Technically it's not," Max begins. "But it _is_ Terry's business and it's killing him." Bruce snorts. "If you feel like your life is worth less than it is, fine, but at least acknowledge what your death would do to Terry."

"Old people die Gibson. It's what we do," Bruce spits.

"Well you don't need to facilitate the process," Max retorts. "Especially when you consider the long-term consequences..." She trails off here and scratches Ace behind the ears as Bruce's curiosity builds.

"What long-term consequences," he finally snaps.

"The Powers," Max says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Think about how quickly 'Wayne-Powers' would be 'Powers-Wayne' before just being 'Powers & Sons'. Think about how hard you worked to build that company. Hell, think about how hard your father worked. You _earned _naming an entire company after yourself; Powers just waltzed in, shook a few hands, signed a few papers and boom, now he owns half of what you put your blood, sweat and tears into."

Bruce's eyes are so narrow that Max isn't sure whether or not he can actually see her. "I know what you're doing."

Max shrugs. "Doesn't mean I'm wrong. You wouldn't even be four hours dead before they redistributed your stocks and shut out any and everyone you want to leave your company to. After that they'd raid this place, private property be damned. They'll find everything you have hidden, even your long-eared secret. After that it'll only be a matter of time before Batman will be forced to disappear for a little while just to take the heat off and where will that leave Gotham? You worked as hard to clean it up as you did to build Wayne Enterprises, maybe even harder. And the Powers are going to destroy all your hard work bit by bit."

"And how could you possibly know this?"

"They've always wanted what you have. It's in the way they talk about the company and in the looks they give you when you show up to press conferences and public events. The Powers are a proud bunch and you're the only one who keeps them in their places. Without you they'll run amok."

The irritation in Bruce's eyes is now tempered with a slight twinkle. "Kitchen, drawer beside the stove," he barks. Max does what she thinks is an excellent job of hiding her grin until she reaches the kitchen and digs up the bottles. She returns to the library and deposits one pill from each container into Bruce's waiting hand. He pops them in his mouth and dry swallows them, opening his mouth to prove they're gone. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," Max says. She returns the bottles to their place and walks to the front door where Bruce is waiting. "Don't make me come back," she says sweetly. She leans up and presses a quick peck to his cheek as he opens the door.

"Believe me, that's the last thing I want," he growls. The corner of his mouth twitches slightly and Max smiles.

"Good."

Later that week when Terry crawls in at a more reasonable hour (1:13) he regards her with confusion and awe.

"Wayne said you went to see him."

Max shrugs. "Did it work?"

"Yeah," Terry says incredulously. "I counted again. He's been taking his pills since the day you went. What'd you say to him, by the way? All he'd tell me is that you hit him where he was weak."

Max grins. "I guess I've just got a way with words."

Terry chuckles. "He also said to tell you that you play dirtier than our last district attorney."

"Coming from him that's a compliment."


	4. one & seven on my list of mistakes

[AN: _I'm pretty sure Sam would eviscerate anyone who ever called her "Sammy" but it just seemed to fit. Also, the iCarly wiki said Patillo was the last name of one of Sam's cousins, so I used it as Pam's maiden name._]

Melanie had Jaspar's eyes; kind and giving, but not always tough. Sam, on the other hand, was her mother through and through and had adored her father. Both girls had. Pam was sorry that they'd grown up without him, but she was even sorrier that Sam had grown up to become her. It was Freddie who'd called Pam 3 years ago to tell her that Sam had miscarried. Pam's response had been "Miscarried what?" because she wasn't mother of the year by any stretch of the imagination, but she'd sure as hell hoped that her kids would at least inform her of big developments like parole hearings and _pregnancies_. She'd driven to their apartment immediately to find Sam curled on the couch beneath a blanket and everyone but her crying. She'd knelt in front of Sam and took note of her unfocused eyes and slack jaw and a sense of helplessness had overwhelmed her. She laid a hand on Sam's cheek.

"Sammy," she'd whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Sam had shaken her head slightly. "This is how it's supposed to be."

"What?"

"I'd be a bad mother. It's for the best," Sam whispered. Pam had been shocked and a dry sob tore free from her throat as she'd pressed her face into her hands. She was distantly aware of Sam stroking her hair, comforting Pam when it should have been the other way around. "It's okay Mom. It'll be okay."

Pam had shaken her head because no it _wouldn't _be okay. Here was her baby girl comforting _her_, telling her it would be okay after losing a baby for whom Pam wouldn't have been able to handpick a better mother. She wanted to tell Sam this, that she was strong and loving in a way Pam had never been and that she was sorry she'd let Sam believe anything else. But all she could do was cry and for the thousandth time since Jaspar left, Pam felt like she'd failed her daughter.

[&&&]

Pam and Wanda had the same parole officer and every so often, Wanda would call Pam (though Pam was sure she'd never given Wanda her real number) to beg her for an alibi. She'd been expecting more of the same when Wanda greeted her this time, but life is just full of surprises.

"Why didn't you tell me your baby girl was getting married Puckett? I could've found her a great deal on a honeymoon suite!"

Pam's mouth dropped open. She and Sam spoke at least twice a month and Pam had thought that for them that was great; apparently she'd missed something. "My girls aren't married," she snapped. "Where the hell are you getting this?"

"Nicky said he saw her leaving the court house with some guy and her little girlfriend from the web show. Aw shit Pam, did I ruin the surprise?"

"I'll get back to you on that," Pam said and she hung up the phone before Wanda could respond. Last time she and Sam had talked Sam was still with the Benson kid. She could understand why they'd want to elope- Marissa Benson was the craziest woman Pam had ever met and she associated with some real whack jobs- but she couldn't help but wonder why Sam hadn't called her. She didn't believe in marriage, not anymore, but she would've been supportive all the same.

_Speak of the devil,_ Pam thought as her phone rang again. It was Sam. "Got something to tell me kiddo?" she said when she answered.

"Uh no," Sam said, obviously surprised by the greeting. "I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch later."

"I'll check my schedule. Where were you last night?" She could almost hear Sam roll her eyes.

"If I had a dollar for every time I'd heard that…"

"Apparently Nicky saw you leaving the court house with Carly and Freddie."

"First of all, Nicky needs to keep his nose out my business before I break it. Second of all I was with Carly and _Sam_. They got married, she asked me to be there."

Pam could feel the relief slide through her veins. "I knew you wouldn't tie the knot without telling me."

Sam laughed. "As long as you promise not to tell Mel. She'll go all wedding crazy and I'll be shitting flowers and doves for weeks."

"Watch your mouth," Pam said without meaning it. "You paying for lunch?"

"Technically Freddie is."

"Guess I'm free then."

"Good."

[&&&]

They met at the Cheesecake Warehouse and when Pam hit on the waiter Sam apologized for her mother's lack of inhibition and said it was caused by a traumatic brain injury due to an excess of prunes. Predictably, the waiter made himself scarce throughout the meal.

"Nice bling," Pam said, nodding to Sam's engagement ring. "When'd he propose?"

"He didn't," Sam said. "He bought it ages ago and thought I didn't know about it." She regarded the ring thoughtfully. "I figured there was no point in letting it go to waste."

"Makes sense," Pam said as she continued studying her dessert menu. "Got a date in mind?"

"God no." Sam paused. "But we might try to have another baby."

Pam looked up at Sam, who was suddenly inspecting her napkin quite thoroughly, and smiled. "That's great," she replied and Sam simply shrugged as she twisted the napkin around her index finger. "Sam," Pam said. Sam looked up at her and Pam was struck by how much she'd grown in the past few years. The Sam sitting across from her had been through hell and back but continued to forge on. _That's the Patillo in her, _Pam thought proudly.

"What?" Sam asked. "Is there something on my face?"

Pam shook her head. "Your face is perfect." She paused again. "I know I've made mistakes but you and your sister are my greatest accomplishments. I'm not worried about any kid you have Sammy. I know you'll be a great mother."

Sam smiled brighter than Pam had seen in a long time. "Thanks, Mom."

Pam smiled back and looked at her menu again. "Your attitude is shit though, and the kid's probably will be too."

Sam laughed. "Watch your mouth."


End file.
